BURGUNDY: THE
SPLENDID DUCHY
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
IMPRESSIONS OF PROVENCE. FOOLSCAP QUARTO, 12/6 NET
SONGS OF OLD FRANCE. CROWN 8VO. 6/- NET
LONDON: FRANCIS GRIFFITHS
[Illustration: MONT BEUVRAY
_Frontispiece_]
BURGUNDY: THE
SPLENDID DUCHY
STORIES AND SKETCHES IN SOUTH BURGUNDY
BY
PERCY ALLEN
AUTHOR OF "IMPRESSIONS OF PROVENCE" ETC.
Fully illustrated with eight water-colour and 86 line drawings
by Miss Marjorie Nash
LONDON
FRANCIS GRIFFITHS
34 MAIDEN LANE, STRAND, W.C.
1912
[Illustration: Lion]
TO M.
TANT L VAUT, the Virgin name,
Five hundred years ago,
On stately hall and tower aflame,
Blazoned in gold, bade all acclaim
Her worth in high Rochepot.
Here above London's roar I sit,
To watch the splendour flow
O'er myriad roof-trees glory-lit,
And read,--with golden fingers writ--
A sunset's TANT L VAUT.
Darkness and stars begin to be,
Light leaves the world below;
Turning, a gracious form I see,
And vesper music wakes in me--
Ma deboinaire, très doulce amie,
Seule Etoile, TANT L VAUT.
[Illustration: Grapes]
PREFACE
I have to thank very cordially my friend, Monsieur François Fertiault,
for his kindness in permitting me to make use of the valuable material
comprised in his charming books upon rural Burgundy; and I have also
to thank M. A. de Charmasse and his publisher, M. Dejussieu, of Autun,
for placing at my disposal the information contained in that author's
Précis Historique to "Autun et ses Monuments" and in the archeological
portion of the same work, written by the late M. H. de Fontenay, a book
which I recommend to those who wish to study fully the stones of that
interesting city.
I have also to acknowledge the kindness of Mm. Mame & Fils, of Tours,
in granting permission to translate the Burgundian legends, "Le
Creux du Diable," "Le Puits de St. Martin," and "L'Abbaye de St^{e.}
Marguerite," by the late Abbé B----, published by that house: also the
courtesy of M. Gabriel Hanotaux, of the French Academy, and of his
publishers, Messrs. Hachette, of Paris, in permitting the reproduction
of a portrait of Philippe le Bon (p. 191) from his recent work on
Jeanne d'Arc. My thanks are due, too, to M. Perrault-Dabot, who kindly
allows me to make use of the engraving of Cluny (p. 72) from his work
"L'Art en Bourgogne."
If the support given to this volume on South Burgundy justifies me in
doing so, I hope, before very long, to follow it by a second, dealing
with the northern part of the duchy.
Among the works consulted in writing this book are the following:--
LIST OF WORKS CONSULTED
THE DATES REFER TO THE EDITION MADE USE OF
Olivier de la Marche "Mémoires" 1819
Olivier de la Marche "Le Chevalier délibère." 1842
C. R. de Caumont de
la Force "Histoire secrète de la Bourgogne" 1694
Brugière de Barante "Histoire des Ducs de Bourgogne
de la Maison de Valois" 1825-6
Ernest Petit "Histoire des Ducs de Bourgogne,
de la Race Capétienne" 9 vols. 1835-1905
Dom Urbain Plancher "Histoire Générale de la
Bourgogne." 4 vols. 1739-81
Philippe de Comines "Chroniques," etc. 5 vols.
Claude Courtépée "Voyages en Bourgogne" 1905
Claude Courtépée "Description du Duché de
Bourgogne" 1775-85
A. Kleinclausz "Histoire de la Bourgogne." 1909
A. Kleinclausz "Régions de la France; La Bourgogne"
Francis Miltoun "Castles and Châteaux of Old
Burgundy" 1909
Sir G. F. Duckett (Bart.) "Abbey of Cluny"; 1839 "Charters
and Records" 1888
P. Lorrain "Essai Historique sur L'Abbaye de
Cluny" 1839
J. Pignot "Histoire de L'Ordre de Cluny"
3 vols. 1868
A. Penjon "Cluny; La Ville et L'Abbaye"
Cistercian Monk "A Concise History of the Cistercian
Order" 1852
H. Collins "The Cistercian Fathers"
M. T. Ratisbonne "Histoire de Saint Bernard" 1843
G. Chevallier "Histoire de St. Bernard" 1888
François Fertiault "Rimes Bourguignonnes" 1899
François Fertiault "Histoire d'un Chant Populaire
Bourguignon" 1883
François Fertiault "En Bourgogne; Récits Villageois" 1898
François Fertiault "Une Noce d'Autrefois en Bourgogne" 1892
François Fertiault "Le Cher Petit Pays" 1903
A. Perrault-Dabot "L'Art en Bourgogne" 1897
A. Perrault-Dabot "Le Patois Bourguignon"
P. G. Hamerton "Round my House"
P. G. Hamerton "The Mount" 1897
H. de Fontenay } "Autun et ses Monuments" 1889
and }
A de Charmasse } "Autun et ses Monuments, Précis
Historique" 1889
Joseph Déchelette "Guide des Monuments D'Autun" 1907
Joseph Déchelette "L'Oppidum de Bibracte"
Alphonse Germain "Les Néerlandais en Bourgogne" 1909
M. L'Abbé B---- "Légendes Bourguignonnes" 1872
M. L'Abbé B---- "Tebsima" 1872
Lettres d'Abailard et d'Héloise; Nouveau receuil, etc. 1720
Matthew Arnold's Poems 1885
Jules Baux "Richesses Historiques et
Archéologiques sur L'Eglise de Brou" 1844.
Camille Jullian "Vercingetorix" 1902
Camille Jullian "Histoire de Gaule" 1908
Camille Jullian "Tableau sommaire de la Gaule sous
la domination romaine." 1892
S. Cambray "Lamartine; A Study" 1890
Lamartine "Confidences" " 1849
Lamartine "Le Tailleur de Pierre de Saint
Point" " 1851
Michelet "Histoire de France"
Viollet-le-Duc "Dictionnaire Raisonné"
INTRODUCTION
Although the history of Burgundy is intimately connected with that
of England--the policy of the Valois Dukes, for example, affected
profoundly our national destinies during the hundred years' war--the
average English reader's knowledge of the subject is contained within
the four corners of a wine list. He knows Beaune--knows the name well,
as that of a drinkable brand, may have blessed it in his heart, when
a ray from the shaded lamp shot through its ruby depths. If by any
chance he loves Meredith, he may, even, under its kindly influence,
have whispered to his fair partner, Dr. Middleton's phrase: "Burgundy
has great genius; Burgundy sings the inspired ode." But should his lady
slip in a question concerning this ruddy heartener of man, he could not
answer; he would stumble between the Côte d'Azur and the Côte d'Or.
Not another town of Burgundy could he name. Dijon he knows, and
remembers; because there he scalded his throat with hot coffee, gulped
down, at three in the morning, on the way home from the Riviera; or,
bound for Switzerland, he may have passed through the town. But he does
not know Dijon as a Burgundian Capital, nor as a proud city of royal
palaces and unrivalled sculpture. At most, when he hears the duchy
named, there floats through his mind a shadowy memory of Henry V., or
of King Lear.[1]
Yet Burgundy was the scene of events vital in the making of Europe. It
was one of the strongholds of Roman civilization. It saw the genesis
of a religious movement that was the greatest feature of eleventh and
twelfth century history. Cluny was a nursery of popes; Citeaux became
a breeding ground of saints; their abbots lorded it over mighty kings;
they dictated to potentates and princes; they bent all western Europe
beneath their sway. Bernard's eloquence fired three nations with
enthusiasm for the second crusade.
That Power, when it had passed from the great monastic houses, fell
later, in a modified form, to the Valois Dukes. Safely housed in Dijon,
or in Bruges, ruling a people sheltered, to some extent, from the
appalling disasters that were transforming the fair kingdom of France
into a howling wilderness, they kept a more than royal state. Gathering
about their persons a great company of distinguished artists and
valiant knights, they established a school of sculpture unmatched in
their time; they held pageants and tournaments the most brilliant that
chivalry had ever seen.
Headstrong and ambitious, they challenged the crown of France, and
defied it; they dreamed dreams of a Burgundian empire extending
eastward beyond the Alps and northward to the Channel.
'Tis true that these ambitions were never sated. The house of Valois
had not the constructive mind of which empire is begotten: moreover,
Destiny, and Louis XI., were too strong for them. But the glorious
tale of ducal efforts towards that goal outshines all other sunset
splendours of dying mediævalism.
When I think of what might be made of such a theme, I could tear these
pages, because my best is not better.
Yet history does not end the attractions of Burgundy. It only begins
them. Nature, too, has her pageant "in this best garden of the
world," she will hold you here, whether you choose the delicious,
poplar-fringed plains of the Saône, the "waterish" Burgundy that the
French king sneers at in "Lear"--he would have gloried in the land had
it been his own--or the stern and silent hills of the Jura and the
Morvan; or the vine-clad slopes of sunny Côte d'Or.
But, best of all, this land and its people have a character wholly
their own. You will not feel here the twilight melancholy of Celtic
Brittany; the quivering, electric atmosphere of romantic Provence; nor
the passionate intensity of dark Languedoc; but you will find a country
well typified by its wines, its sculpture, its architecture--a solid,
ample, full-bodied, full-blooded land; a people strong and vivacious,
concealing, beneath a somewhat harsh and stern exterior, a cheerful
heart and an abundant generosity; comfortable, courageous, eloquent,
sonorous folk, that love a good dinner, and a good story to follow,
that have produced a Bernard, a Bossuet, and a Lamartine.
The key to this Burgundian character, with its blend of Gallic,
Latin, and German elements, the key to Burgundian history, too, is
the geographical position of the country. Its great water-ways flow
northward, by the Yonne, to the English Channel, and southward, by the
Saône, to the Mediterranean and the traffic of the East; along its
valleys run the great trading roads and railways connecting northern
and southern, eastern and western Europe. With the exception of the
Jura, no natural barriers exist between Burgundy and the adjoining
lands. It was open at all quarters; from every point of the compass it
borrowed, and it lent. Michelet's visionary thought has summed up, in
a splendid phrase, the secret of Burgundy. He says, speaking of the
country round Dijon: "La France n'a pas d'élément plus liant, plus
capable de réconcilier le nord et le midi."
There you have it. To reconcile the bitter antagonisms of north and
south, and, in a lesser degree, of east and west, was Burgundy's
destiny; the geographical position that enabled her to do so was at
once the source of her greatness, and the cause of her fall. While she
remained independent, unity was impossible for France; and England's
peace was imperilled by irresistible temptations to attack a weakened
neighbour.
In writing this book, I have endeavoured, as far as possible, to
preserve historical continuity. That must be my excuse for geographical
flights which, else, might bewilder my readers.
My hope is that these pages may awaken, here and there, lasting
interest in a land that, whether for varied scenery, sunny climate,
good living, characteristic architecture, or, above all, historical
associations of the first importance, can hold its own with any other
ancient province of France.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Henry V., Act V., Scene 2; King Lear, Act I., Scene 1.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
BENEATH THE MOUNT
PAGE
The Hiring at St. Léger--Distant Beuvray--Fun of the Fair--A
mad wolf--Legends of the Mount--Gaulish Bibracte--St. Martin at
Beuvray--La Pierre de la Wivre--Legend of the Wivern--The Curé
of Monthelon 1
CHAPTER II
THE ROMAN CITY
A Suffering Cow--Temple of Janus--The Aedui--Druids--Divitiacus
and Dumnorix--Vercingetorix--The Founding of Augustodunum--Pierre
de Couhard--Francis I. at Couhard--The Plan of
Augustodunum--Temple of Janus--Restoration--Origin of the
Name--Roman Gates--Porte d'Arroux--Porte St. André--Date of
Construction--Porte des Marbres--Vagaries of Peasant guides 11
CHAPTER III
THE ROMAN CITY (CONTINUED)
French Passion for Statues--Roman Temple at Autun--Ecoles
Méniennes--The Capitol--The Roman Theatre--Two Ways of
Lunching--Promenade des Marbres--The Amphitheatre 31
CHAPTER IV
THE ROMAN CITY (CONTINUED)
Christian Autun--Relics of Lazarus--Translation of the
Relics--Tomb of Lazarus--Exterior of Cathedral St. Lazare--The
Porch--The Interior--Romanesque and Gothic--The East
End--Imbecile Restorations--The Capital--St. Symphorien by
Ingres--Story of St. Symphorien--Fontaine St. Lazare--Hotel
Rolin--The Museums--Napoleon at the Hotel St. Louis--No charge
for Moonlight 41
CHAPTER V
THE MOTHER ABBEY
Cluny and Citeaux--Cluny still the Abbey--The Birth of
Cluny--Duke William's Anathema--Odon--Legend of the
Crumbs--Legend of the Boar--Growth of Cluny--Birth of Hugues--St.
Odilon--Hildebrand--Glory of Cluny--The Monk's Vision--The new
Abbey--Consecration--Gifts--Description of New Cluny--The
Narthex--The Interior--Conventual Buildings--Ambulatorium
Angelorum--The Rule of Cluny--Monkish life at Cluny--Pierre
Damien--Death of St. Hugues--Luxury and Decadence 59
CHAPTER VI
THE MOTHER ABBEY (CONTINUED)
Cluny of To-day--Palace of Pope Gélase--The remaining
Transept--Chapelle Bourbon--Tour du Moulin--Tour des
Fromages--Gate of the Narthex--The Abbey Gate--Notable Visitors
to Cluny--Palais abbatial--Musée--Hotel de Ville--Romanesque
Houses--Hotel des Monnaies--Eglise St. Marcel--Hotel
Dieu--Bouillon Monument--Prud'hon--Women of Burgundy--Hotel de
Bourgogne--An amusing Evening--A Dream--Berzé-le-Châtel--Castle
of Lourdon--St. Point--A Poet's Garden--Lamartine's Home--Tramaye 86
CHAPTER VII
MORE POPE THAN YOU
Decadent Cluny--Birth of St. Robert--Abbey of Molême--The Founding
of Citeaux--White Robes--Black Scapular--Stephen's Vision--The
Coming of St. Bernard--His Appearance--Legend of His
Birth--Bernard converts his Family--Bernard a Cistercian--His
Austerities--Rise of Citeaux--Daughter Abbeys--Ceremony of
Foundation--Character of Bernard--Cistercian
Ideals--Self-sacrifice--Simplicity--Bernard's Letter to Pierre le
Vénérable--Visitors to Citeaux--Albigensian Crusade--Citeaux's
Crime--A Cistercian Site--Citeaux to-day--The Chapter--My Flemish
Guide 111
CHAPTER VIII
CLUNY'S DAUGHTER
Monkish Paray--"Une Simple Formalité"--Burgundian
Manners--Clothes and the Woman--Hotel de Ville--Church of
Paray--Splendid Example of Clunisian
School--"Diorama-Musée"--Burgundian English--North
Door--Porch--Interior--Blasphemy and kindred Matters--A very
young Mule--A Snake-charmer 127
CHAPTER IX
HER THREE CROWNS
Chalon-Sur-Saône--River Pageants--Gontran--Abbey of St.
Marcel--The Story of Bertille 136
CHAPTER X
ABELARD AND HELOISE
Church of St. Marcel--Story of Abélard and Héloise--Olivier de
la Marche--Tournament of la Dame des Pleurs--Tournament of
1273--Modern Chalon-Sur-Saône--Eglise St. Vincent 145
CHAPTER XI
TOURNUS BY THE SAONE
Abbey of St. Philibert--Oldest Clunisian Porch--Interior of St.
Philibert--A Change of Author--The Record of Raoul
Glaber--Raoul's Visions--Famine in Burgundy--Human Vampires--In
a Tournusian Café--"Au Point du Jour"--Greuze--Morning and
Evening on the Saône--Mâcon 160
CHAPTER XII
THE VALLEY OF THE OUCHE
A Page of Dialogue--Castle of Marigny--Legend of
Tebsima--Albéric--Labussière--Albéric's Dream--Aid from
Citeaux--The new Church--Modern Labussière--A magnificent
Mansion--Antigny-le-Chatel--A Vigneron's
Wedding--Arnay-le-Duc--Study in Roofs and Colours--A charming
Town--The Goats--The Poor Man--The Hotel Chrétien--Around Arnay 173
CHAPTER XIII
THE CITY OF THE DUKES
Unknown Dijon--The City in 1364--Philip le Hardi--His jewelled
Coats--The Madness of the Period--Costume of that Day--Madness of
King Charles--Philip's Patronage of Art--Chartreuse de
Champmol--Puits de Moise--Portal of the Chapel--Claus Slater and
his Nephew--Tombs of Philip le Hardi and Jean sans Peur--The
Pleurants--Character of Jean sans Peur--Murder of Duke of
Orleans--Whitewashing--Armagnacs and Burgundians Revenge 184
CHAPTER XIV
CITY OF THE DUKES (CONTINUED)
Salle des Gardes--Dijon Castle--A new Post-Office--Final Struggle
between Charles le Téméraire and Louis XI--Characters of both
Men--Defeats and Death of Charles--Discovery of the
Body--Victorious René--Louis' Joy--New Castles--Entry into
Dijon--End of Burgundian Dreams--Modern Dijon--St.
Bénigne--St. Michel--Notre Dame Jacquemart--Ducal Palace and
Kitchen--Sketching--Palais de
Justice--Plombières--Talant--Fontaine-lez-Dijon--Memories of
Bernard--Tournament of Tree of Charlemagne 203
CHAPTER XV
THE DEVIL'S PIT
Easter Morning--Lux--The Devil's Pit--Dialogue--The
Legend--Serve him right! 221
CHAPTER XVI
BEAUNE AND THE COTE D'OR
"Bits" in Beaune--Notre Dame--Hotel Dieu--An Earthly
Paradise--Exterior--Courtyard--Chapel--Devices--Roger Van der
Weyden's "Last Judgment"--Nicholas Rolin--Guigonne 230
CHAPTER XVII
SAINT MARTIN'S WELL AND THE LEGEND OF SAINT MARGUERITE
Bouilland--Abbey of Sainte Marguerite--The Legend--Vineyards
of the Côte d'Or--Meursault--Rochepot--Story of Philippe
Pot--Crusader's Return--His Marriage at Dijon--Tant L
Vaut--A Talk at Auxey-le-Grand--Through Côte d'Or by
Train--Cussy-la-Colonne--Bewitched--The Column--A Democratic
Journey--St. Martin's Well--Legend of St. Martin's Well 237
CHAPTER XVIII
IN RURAL BURGUNDY
The Road to Verdun--Burgundian Folk-song, "Eho!"--Its
Story--Verdun sur le Doubs--The First of March--Burgundian
Folk-Lore--Teillage--Winter Scene--An old-time Burgundian
Wedding--The Patois--François Fertiault 258
CHAPTER XIX
A LAKE IN THE JURA
Swiss Burgundy--Scenes in the Jura--Nantua from the Hills--Real
Burgundy--A capable Woman--Church of Nantua 272
CHAPTER XX
PRINCESS MARGARET'S CHURCH
Bourg-en-Bresse--Signs of the South--Conveyances--Monument
Historique--Cezenat--Princess Margaret's
Church--Exterior--Interior--Story of Princess Margaret---Loys
von Boghen--Death of Margaret--The Meaning of her Church--The
Tombs--Paradin's Chronique de Savoie--Francis I. at Bourg 276
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Mont Beuvray Frontispiece
A Gaulish Soldier 1
On Mont Beuvray 7
The Wivern 10
The Porte St. André 11
Autun; shewing Cathedral and Mediæval Towers 17
Autun; Pierre de Couhard 19
Autun; Temple of Janus 23
Autun; Porte d'Arroux 25
Burgundian Peasant 30
Head of Augustus 31
Autun; Mediæval Towers 35
A Burgundian Welcome 38
Masks of Comedy and Tragedy 40
Roman Vine Ornament 41
St. Lazarus; from the Porch of Autun Cathedral 46
Autun; Fontaine St. Lazare Facing 50
Autun; Tour des Ursulines 52
Cluny Abbey and Gateway, as they were 59
Cluny; Valley of the Grosne and part of the Abbey Grounds 62
Cluny; Tour Fabri 64
Clunisian Ornament 67
God reproving Adam; from a capital of the Abbey of Cluny 70
Cluny Abbey, as it was at the beginning of XIXth Century (by
permission of M. Perrault-Dabot) 72
Cluny; Clocher de l'Eau Bénite 78
Cluny; ruined Gate of the Narthex 81
A Jewelled Crucifix 85
Early Clunisian Ornament 86
Cluny; Tour des Fromages 87
Cluny; Gateway of the Abbey 90
Cluny; Hotel de Ville 92
Cluny; Pascal Lamb; twelfth century 93
Cluny; Hôtel des Monnaies, twelfth century 96
Ornament 99
Cluny; a Capital from the Abbey 102
Château de Berzé 104
Château de Lourdon 106
House of Lamartine 110
St. Bernard 111
St. John: Burgundian School 119
Justice and Truth 126
Paray-le-Monial; the Church 127
Two Priests 128
Paray-le-Monial; North Door of the Church 132
Gontran and Bertille 136
Her Three Crowns 144
Abélard and Héloïse 145
Beaune; Maison Colombier Facing 150
Chalon-Sur-Saône; Maison de Bois. 159
The Saône near Tournus 160
A Street in Tournus 162
Tournus; the Abbey 170
By the Saône 172
Antigny-le-Chatel 173
Arnay-le-Duc; Corner House, sixteenth century 181
Arnay-le-Duc; Tour de la Motte Forte Facing 182
Dijon 184
Dijon: at the Café 187
Moses; from the Puits de Moïse, Dijon 189
Philippe le Bon, Duke of Burgundy 191
A Corner of the Tomb of Philippe le Hardi 193
Pleurants from the Tomb of Philippe le Hardi 194
Dijon; Corner of the Place des Ducs 197
Pleurant 199
Ornament 200
Sword 202
Dijon: Decorated windows of the Maison Milsand 203
Dijon Museum; Woman at Prayer 204
Dijon; a Street Facing 208
Dijon; Door of Eglise St. Michel 211
Dijon; A Font in the Eglise St. Michel 212
Sculpture; Notre Dame de Dijon 213
Dijon; Well outside the Duke's Kitchen 214
Vine Ornament 215
Dijon; a fifteenth century Window 218
Ornament 219
Arbre Charlemagne 220
The Three Huntsmen 221
Through the Forest 225
Vine Ornament 230
Beaune; Belfry of the Hospice de la Charité 231
Beaune; Porch of Notre Dame Facing 232
Beaune; Courtyard of the Hôtel Dieu 235
Star Ornament 236
Saint Martin and Saint Margaret 237
Ruins of St. Margaret's Abbey 239
La Rochepot 241
Beaune: Porch of the Hôtel-Dieu Facing 242
Tomb of Philippe Pot 245
Taking his Ease 247
Roman Column at Cussy 251
Valley of Nantoux 254
St. Martin Preaching 257
Burgundian Ox-cart 258
In Rural Burgundy 261
Junction of Rivers Doubs and Saône 261
Oxen ploughing Facing 264
Burgundian Cottage 267
Château de Moux 270
Nantua and the Lake 272
Nantua from the Hill 274
Princess Margaret's Tomb 276
Bourg; in the Street 278
Eglise de Brou: Ste. Madeleine from the Tomb of Marguerite
d'Autriche 287
Eglise de Brou: Ornament from the Tomb of Marguerite d'Autriche 290
Princess Marguerite d'Autriche 292
Sketch Map of South Burgundy 293
[Illustration: Heading, chapter I]
CHAPTER I
BENEATH THE MOUNT
We had expected quiet, rural times in this far-away village of
St.-Léger-sous-Beuvray; but I doubt whether we shall get them. The
village green in front of the Hotel du Morvan shows signs of unusual
animation; it is dotted with carts, which are discharging tent-poles,
canvas, golden cars, and other paraphernalia of a country festival;
and, surer sign still, through the door of an open shed, I can see
hanging, headless and lamentable, the gaping corpse of a fatted calf.
Yes! there is his tawny countenance and two mild eyes looking down,
like those of a martyred saint, from the cruel hook. The odour of him,
wafted in succulent puffs, from the dead-house door, has cheered with
a splendid hope half the dogs in the village, and awakened from torpor
two ancient hounds, who prowl, almost youthfully, sniffing fragrant
memories in the air.
"What is going to happen?" I asked the landlord, who was sharpening
tools on a bench.
"'Tis the Louée, Monsieur, the hiring that takes place every year. All
in the neighbourhood who want farm-hands, or domestic servants, and
those who want places, come to-morrow morning and make bargains. And
the Directeur of Enfants Assistés (Foundlings) is coming, too; he is to
stop here at my hotel, and so his children get work."
We were up early the next morning. Only deaf men, or dead ones, sleep
through a Louée. There came to us in our bedroom, with the sunshine, an
indescribable babel of sounds--babble of voices, braying of trumpets,
banging of drums. To a Londoner, strange methods of doing business!
We went out into the din and the sunshine to find the transformation
complete. All the green was dotted with booths bright with gaudy
trinkets of every imaginable colour; shooting galleries, and a hundred
other sou-trapping devices. Before every inn had sprung up, as if by
magic, a salle de bal, with a real wooden floor, and a little balcony
for the musicians. There was a gipsy encampment, too, where, heedless
of the din, a Romany sat upon the trunk of a fallen tree, methodically
skinning hedgehogs with a knife; while his two small sons were
unmethodically currey-combing the yellow pony, and dusting him down
with his own tail, cut off and tied to a stick! The door of the caravan
opened; there was a glimpse of a woman's arm, and a pailful of slops
shot out, sparkling in the sun, to alight where fate might decree.
Brown drops splashed up into the hollow eyes of Grandmother, dreaming
on a chair by the steps. Meanwhile the peasants went on hiring and
being hired; some sealing the bargain with a glass of red wine, in the
Café; some, if the maid were comely, with a kiss. Peasants I call them,
though, at first sight, this array of black blouses and black squash
hats suggests a meeting of nonconformist parsons, rather than farmers
of the Morvan. Yet one learns to accept them so, and to enjoy the deep,
black shadows that lurk in the folds of the garments. Straw hats are
few; but the white caps of the old ladies are there for contrast.
Wearied of the buzzing crowd, the nerve-racking crack of the rifles, we
wandered out of the village, and sat by the edge of a ploughed field,
where we watched, above a rampart of firs shot with spring greens,
the purple mass of dark Beuvray lifting its crested summit into the
cloudless sky,--mysterious Beuvray, whence of old, as darkness closed
upon their homes, the wondering peasants in the valley, heard, from the
mysterious mountain city above their heads, the sound of great gates
creaking harshly upon their hinges.
But to-morrow is for Beuvray. To-day we will watch the long stream of
peasants coming to the Fair, by the lanes that wind, up and down,
among the buttress hills of the mount. They come on foot, in farm
carts, on bicycles; but most of them come in little, trim donkey-carts;
husband and wife sitting primly side by side, their tanned faces
shewing strongly above the silently twitching, brown ears of the
"baudet." Here is a family in a donkey-drawn washing-basket, three
generations of them, packed like sardines. After déjeuner, when the
hiring is done, the older ones leave; the turn of the younger is come.
Then the fillettes begin to appear--Fifines made fine for the Fair--all
cut after the same pattern, with white blouses below much be-ribboned
straw hats; each carrying, because of the mid-day sun, a grey jacket
lined with light blue. These come tripping from village and hamlet,
clinging to each other, with little toddlers holding their hands; all
chattering, smiling, sweltering, happy. The fiddlers will be tuning up
in the Salles de Bal.
So we followed the maids back to the village, and wandered again among
the booths. An old, old lady, beside a not less ancient friend was
nursing a tin mug. They were discussing bargains and their budget. "I
got this for three sous; et je trouve que c'est bien solide." On that
point she was cruelly deceived. But what matter? Thinking makes it so.
What a popping of corks comes from the Café!
Bang! Bang!! Bang!! Bang!! Bang!!! The crowd surges toward a compelling
din. Before the largest of the tents a half-naked, muscular ruffian
stands silent upon a tub; beside him another, clad in shiny velveteens,
shouts himself hoarse.
"Gentlemen, you all know that the 'lutte est le premier gymnastique du
monde.' Come in then, and see. Our professor challenges all comers. He
will wrestle with a great bear. Now for la lutte aux ours! Entrez; we
will show you the véritable gorille, and the most terrible beast in the
world, the Monstre du Pole Nord." And, indeed, above his head was writ
in gold letters, the fearsome legend: "MONSTRE DU POLE NORD."
We went in, with other youths and maidens. The baby that followed us,
shewing signs of strong emotion, was hastily removed by its mother.
"Up against the canvas, please gentlemen. La séance va commencer au
milieu!"
We watched while, before the bars that held the four-legged animals,
the naked bipeds struggled furiously; clutching, writhing, rolling,
till the bare, oily skins were dark with perspiration and sawdust.
Their eyes were so full of it, that, between the rounds, they were
gouging it out with their knuckles. "Ca y est! Ca y est!" "At it again!"
"Bravo monsieur l'amateur, un petit bravo pour l'amateur"--with arms
like telegraph posts--"le plus fort du pays." So it went on--the "lutte
aux hommes," the "lutte aux ours."
For a full five minutes the sanded professor leant up against and
pushed the furry mass of Jean Pierre, the feebly scratching, tangled
bear, who was too bored to be méchant. From behind their bars the
Monstre Du Pole Nord (a sloth bear) and "le véritable gorille" (a
Barbary ape) grunted approval of their companion's efforts.
Through the crowded entrance we pushed our way into the largest of the
Salles de Bal, bright with lit lamps and coloured ribbons. In a scarlet
and green box, with a yellow diamond, slung to the roof of the tent,
the fiddlers and viol players, sitting in their shirt-sleeves, squeaked
and ground lustily. There was babble of voices and rhythmic scuffle of
feet. A young soldier, fair and close-cropped, in uniform, crossed the
salle, bowed to my wife, and asked for a dance. A moment's hesitation,
and she was whirling round with the others. As he said to her at
parting; "You are not in France every day." It was three in the morning
before darkness and silence settled down upon St.-Léger-sous-Beuvray.
The next morning we rode to the Mount by a lane that, undulating,
climbs, through pasture, arable, and woodland, among the buttress hills
of Beuvray, to the Poirier aux Chiens, a lonely farmhouse, where we
left our bicycles. Cyclists are rather worried hereabout by excitable
dogs and hysterical sheep; but the former are not dangerous, as they
are in Languedoc and other parts of the south of France; and we are
happily free to-day from the dangers of two hundred years ago; as when,
on the 18th of June, 1718, at nightfall, St. Léger was visited by a
mad wolf from the top of Beuvray, that wounded and disfigured sixteen
people, of whom all but one died of hydrophobia. The single exception
was a woman, who had only been scratched by the animal's claws.
After this incident a Confraternity of St. Hubert was established in
connection with the Church, and by the authority of the bishop, for the
destruction of wild beasts.[2]
The easiest path by which those who are not familiar with the locality
can climb Beuvray, is from the Croix du Rebout, nearly two kilometres
beyond the Poirier aux Chiens, at the top of the col, just where the
descent begins. Several other paths lead up to it; but as there are
more than twenty miles of Gaulish roads intersecting on the tree-clad
slopes of the Mount, it is very easy to lose yourself completely, as I
did on my first visit; until there was nothing for it but to descend to
the road and seek another path. My only consolation for those two hours
of wasted energy was that, while lunching beside the forest path, I
met, face to face, a red fox ambling jauntily on his way. How we stared
at one another; and how I wished that, for once, he could talk.
But, "after all," the reader may ask, "Why climb Beuvray? When you are
up there, what is to be seen but a view; and what mean these twenty
miles of Gaulish roads through a wilderness of boughs?" To which
pertinent question I reply, that in all France there is but one Beuvray.
You will find more romantic peaks in the Alpines of Provence, you will
find grander, more striking mountains in volcanic Auvergne; in the Alps
you will see summits, clothed in eternal snow, beside which the Mount
is but a molehill; but nowhere will you find such a hill as this, whose
flanks have echoed to the tramp of Cæsar's legions, whose crest, the
council chamber of kings and generals, has flamed through long nights
with the beacon fires of a great city. Nowhere else will you find a
hill that the centuries have so peopled with dragon and saint, with
phantom hound and spectre horseman, and have made as harmonious with
legendary poetry and immemorial voices, as nature has made her woods
vocal with whispering fern and wandering wind, with the ripple of the
brook, and the stir of creeping things in the grass.[3]
For this Beuvray is no other than Bibracte, the Gaulish oppidum that
Cæsar speaks of as "Oppido Aeduorum longe maximo et copiosissimo."[4]
Tradition, as I have said, had rumoured it for centuries as the site
of an ancient city; but many had supposed that Autun was the place
referred to, until the researches of M. Bulliot, the Antiquary of
Hamerton's delightful work "The Mount," settled the problem once for
all. Of the history of the last days of the town I will say something
in the next chapter; for the present, let us be content to mount the
rocky, rain-washed, Gaulish road that leads up, through interlacing
boughs, to the "Grand Hotel des Gaulois," or, in other words, the
little house and sheds near the summit, which the antiquary occupied
while making his researches and excavations.
The path runs beside many of the most interesting discoveries, though
nothing of the remains is to be seen, the owner having stipulated that
all "fouilles" should be covered up, a precaution necessary in any
event, if the primitive Gaulish homes of stones and wood, with mud for
mortar, are ever to be preserved to a later posterity.[5]
After passing the huts, you come, by a grassy woodland path winding up
through ferns and bracken, to the terrace on the summit of the hill,
now mercifully clear of the ubiquitous trees. Here, on the site of
the ancient temple to the Dea Bibracte, one of the many Gaulish gods,
M. Bulliot has erected a little chapel in Romanesque style, dedicated
to St. Martin. Here, also, is a granite cross, with a carving of St.
Martin performing an act of charity at the gate of Amiens; not far away
is a memorial to M. Bulliot himself.
Tradition has given much prominence to the doings of St. Martin here,
as elsewhere in France, and it seems probable that the saint did visit
Bibracte, about the year 377, on his way to Autun. M. Bulliot, and
other authorities, agree that he preached on the plateau of Beuvray,
possibly from the Pierre de la Wivre; and the legend has it that here
he overthrew a pagan temple, arousing thereby such fierce anger among
the inhabitants, that he escaped only by a miraculous leap of his ass
across the gorge of Malvaux (Mauvaise vallée) to the south-west of the
Mount, where the animal's hoof-prints are still to be seen. Later I
shall give fully a precisely similar legend concerning St. Martin in
the valley of Nantoux.
When once we had got our bearings, and accustomed ourselves to the
silence and solitude of the spot, we began to feel the charm of the
lonely plateau, and to realize its attractions for those who would live
close to nature and to the past. When I first visited it, on a bright
autumn afternoon, not a leaf was astir upon the golden oaks, not a
spray of the bramble trembled, not a rustle was heard among the dead
ferns in the grass; only, from far away in the valley below, came the
rumble of a cart-wheel, the crack of a sportsman's rifle in the distant
woods.
[Illustration: ON MONT BEUVRAY]
"So still it was that I could almost hear
The sigh of all the sleepers in the world;
And all the rivers running to the sea."
I looked down through the fringing trees. For mile after mile the
country lay golden before me, fields rising and falling, till they were
lost in the eastern sky. There was little St. Léger, a toy village
among tiny hills; there was the Etang de Poisson, a sapphire set in
emeralds, and far away the evening sun flashing upon the spires of
Autun Cathedral.[6] The sound of a footstep broke the stillness. A
youth was approaching me--a chétif, mis-shapen, shaking thing. He gazed
on me with drooping jaw, and passed muttering--an idiot wandering
through a night-mare world.
Then I, too, began to dream fantastic dreams, and to see spectres of
the past, such as--the peasants tell you--still flit over the crest of
Beuvray,--a white horse galloping at midnight, a loud voice commanding
ghostly legions in Latin; shadowy riders, moving shades of mediæval
knights and barons still climbing the stony paths to this their airy
tilting ground. Winged gabble raches passed screaming over my head,
and, from afar, baying in deep-mouthed thunder, I heard the hounds of
the phantom hunter of Touleur.[7]
But that was a thundery day last autumn, and this is a soft April
evening, with a breeze in the leaves, and silver clouds afloat in a
blue sky. Moreover, I am not alone.
We wandered back by the path along which we had come, and made our way
to the Pierre de la Wivre, a curious, pointed rock rising from the
plateau. Its sulphurous yellow colour is due to the lichen with which
it is covered. From the green headland, surrounded with holly-bushes,
on which it stands, you have magnificent views over rounded,
village-dotted hills, whose brown-green upland fields nestle up to the
dark forests that crown every summit. Up from the valleys come the
shouts of the teamsters urging on the slow, pale oxen.
This Pierre de la Wivre shows signs of man's handling, and has
probably been the scene of human sacrifices, and of other ancient
religious rites. We asked ourselves whether there may not have been
some religious significance in the surrounding belt of holly bushes,
since there are indications of a similar belt round the chapel of St.
Martin. Perhaps the holly tree was sacred to the Gauls. Sitting upon
the stone we recalled the legend as told by Hamerton.[8]
"The peasants believe that the Wivern dwells near it in a hidden cavern
guarding its treasure, but that once a year the cavern opens and the
Wivern goes out, leaving the treasure unguarded. As to the time of
year when this happens the narrators differ. Some say that it is at
midnight on Christmas Eve, others fix it for Easter Day during High
Mass; in either case it is during Mass, as there is a midnight service
at Christmas. The popular legend in its present form goes on to recount
how a certain woman, accompanied by her child, went to the stone of
the Wivern, instead of going to Mass, intending to take his treasure.
She found the cave open, entered, and took as much gold as she could
carry, and came out just in time to escape the Wivern on his return.
On looking round for her child, she could not find him anywhere. The
cavern being now closed again, she knew not what to do, and went in
despair to the priest, who told her to go to the place every day and
pour milk and honey on the stone till the expiration of twelve months,
and then, when the day came for the opening of the cave, to take her
treasure back to it undiminished, and she would find her child. So she
went day by day without fail, in heat and cold, in fine weather and
foul, and poured milk and honey on the stone. At last the day came
when the Wivern left the cave, and the mother found her child within,
sitting quite unhurt, and in perfect health, with an apple before him
on a stone table. So she restored the treasure gladly, and took away
her child."
M. Bulliot thinks that the legend was originally one of some Gaulish
sacrilege and reparatory oblation, the Gaulish priests requiring
a daily offering (perhaps of milk and honey) until certain stolen
treasure was restored. The Catholic character of the legend he looks
upon as nothing but an aftergrowth; and the apple has, in his opinion,
a distinct though undiscoverable significance.
From the Pierre de la Wivre we could see, on the next headland to our
left, the ridge of Pierre Salvée sharply serrated against the sky.
There, half an hour later, we found ourselves rewarded by a glorious
sight. Westward we could see extending mile upon mile, ridge after
ridge, the glowing mountains of Auvergne, and the valley of the Loire,
veiled in a shimmering mist, through whose mysterious wreaths flashed,
here and there, in diamond splendour, the sun-touched roof of a humble
cottage and the tower of a lordly chateau.[9]
With all the thousand other interesting details concerning
Bibracte--the Gaulish roads, the ramparts, the remains, the
descriptions and industries of the town, the visits of Cæsar--I have
no space to deal here; but I recommend particularly to the reader
Hamerton's book, from which I have quoted, and M. Dechelette's handy
guide, "L'Oppidum de Bibracte."
We cycled from St. Léger to Autun, by way of La Grand Verrière
Monthelon, and the Valley of the Arroux. Monthelon, some seven
kilometres from Autun, is a place famous in French Ecclesiastical
history. It has, as is common in Burgundian villages, a delightful
little Romanesque Church, concerning one of whose curés Hamerton tells
a good story which I cannot refrain from giving in the original tongue.
This old curé, then, was fond of putting Latin into his sermons, a
little bit at a time, his own Latin; not of the best. "'Lorsque je
paraîtrai devant Notre Seigneur, il me demandera; 'Curé Monthelonius,
ubi sunt brebetis meis'--ce qui veut dire; 'Curé de Monthelon, où sont
me brebis?' Et moi je lui répondrai; 'bêtes je les ai trouvées, bêtes
je les ai laissées, et bêtes elles sont très probablement encore.'"
Can you refrain from reading "The Mount" after that?
[Illustration: End of chapter I; dragon]
FOOTNOTES:
[2] Hamerton's "The Mount," p. 26.
[3] Alesia, though intensely interesting, lacks the mysterious
quality of Beuvray.
[4] De Bello Gallico, lib. 1, cap. 23: "By far the finest and largest
town of the Aedui."
[5] I am told that the fouilles are open every year during a part of
the month of August.
[6] Hamerton says, that, on a clear day you can see Mont Blanc,
157 miles as the crow flies. It is the distance from London to
Scarborough.
[7] "The Mount," pp. 54-56.
[8] "The Mount," pp. 103-4.
[9] The Pierre Salvée has no legend; the name is probably
derived from some ancient divinity.
[Illustration: Heading, chapter II; The Porte St. André]